In Which I Examine Selective Hearing...

And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. (I Kings 19:11-12)The Bug and the Pea have undergone three separate bilateral “ear tube” surgeries...each. Like many parents, I‘ve became quite an expert regarding the onset and early treatment of ear infections. I am certain, after years of tests/appointments with audiologists and ear/nose/throat specialists the girls both hear as well as they ought to hear. However, I would often swear to the fact that they maintain selective hearing. Especially my oldest, whom I fondly refer to as The Bug.
For instance, I can be looking straight at her, standing one foot away, repeating the clearest of instructions in a firm voice and the Bug will ask, “What Mama? What?” We can be the only two in the house, her upstairs and me downstairs. I can holler repeatedly, up into the silence, “Time to go!” And five minutes later, the Bug will wander slowly down the steps and ask if it’s time to leave yet? Clearly unaware I’ve been screaming at the top of my lungs.
For reasons beyond my understanding, the children deem it necessary to speak loudly in, well, most all situations. I can be driving along in our car, both kids in the backseat, music playing softly. Suddenly, the Bug decides she needs my attention. Despite the fact that I am literally inches away from her, she will project her voice such that the entire highway may hear her message. Or perhaps we’re at the kitchen table eating dinner. The Pea is particularly fond of her “outside voice.” We’ll be quietly eating our meal, and the Pea – who sits right beside me- will recount her day as if her words must rise above the very roar of a pep rally crowd.
Which brings me to today’s conundrum: The Whisper Principle. When I am in close proximity to my children, we are the only ones in a room, and I speak clearly and loudly, there is often no response. Almost as if I’m not even there. However, if my husband and I sneak away from a multitude of people, to a back room and whisper (in a voice barely audible to the whisper-ee) some serious information, both children materialize beside us in a matter of seconds, asking pertinent questions. Why is that?
I haven’t figured it out. Is it because they instinctively tune out voices that go against their immediate focus (generally “self”)? So if I’m telling the Bug it’s time to get on her shoes so that we can leave, she maintains contemplation of the page in her book with the butterfly illustrations. Why? Because that’s what she wants to do and her brain is not voluntarily open to other options?
Do they speak louder than necessary to ensure that I hear their concerns and wishes, even if it means drowning out those of others in the room? Because natural instinct is to put “self” first, and to put those needs above the needs of the other group members? I’m not sure.
This scripture in 1 Kings refers to the Lord’s instructive voice as a “whisper,” or a “still small voice.” How very different from a movie portrayal. Cinematographers liken the booming voice of James Earl Jones to the true voice of God. Implying, we may only be certain the Master Designer has spoken if Darth Vader’s speech echoes from above. Unfortunately, (or fortunately, as the case may be!) the closest I’ve come to Darth Vader was two Halloween’s ago when I took the kids trick-or-treating.
God doesn’t seem to be in the business of frightening us with terrifying shrieks of instruction. He is forever warning His loved ones, “Do not be afraid…” when He sends Messengers. (In fact, and this will be another topic to explore-- God chose the least frightening of all imaginable methods to convey His love and salvation to a fallen world: a tiny infant, born of an unwed teenage girl).
So, how is it that the children are so perceptive when it comes to hearing a whisper, but not an announcement? What makes them, in the midst of distractions, become aware their parents are elsewhere quietly conveying an important message? Are they constantly aware of the presence of their father, and thus the “absence” of him and so they seek him out?
How like the Bug and the Pea am I on a daily basis with my heavenly Father? Talking loudly to God in prayers, telling Him what I would like for Him to do for me, completely disregarding obedience to the instructions He has repeated over and over again in scripture. Acting as if God is not worthy of my constant respect, ignoring His very presence in the normal everyday circumstances around me. Always thinking about “self” and what I want and not being open or expectant to receive direction of how to join Him in His work according to His plan and not mine.
Lots of information to ponder. But I think I will start by making a conscious choice to be aware that God does still speak. Perhaps if I focus so intensely on obeying Him, and listening for His voice, I will surely recognize His whisper.